


Welcome To My Life

by Magical_Devil_Alex



Series: Of Heroes and Villains AU [5]
Category: jacksepticeye, jacksepticeye egos - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Robbie does a sad.PNG, a little of both, doctor stuff, henrik is a good doctor.jpg, not sure how to tag this, sneeplestein is done with ur shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-20 03:44:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14252322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magical_Devil_Alex/pseuds/Magical_Devil_Alex
Summary: Henrik Sneeplestein's life was always a little weird. The heroes and villains that regularly populate his office was just a bonus.





	Welcome To My Life

Of heroes and villains, Dr. Henrik Sneeplestein frankly couldn't give a damn. They both populated his office at random times, all in various states of injury or death. Some still tried to get him to choose one or the other; they claim he can only do one type of person, a hero or villain. And to them Henrik just gave a big middle finger and told them to fuck off. He was a doctor. It didn't matter if some of his patients were less than sane or could level a building in one sweep. It wasn't his business who they were, or how they came to be, his only job was to help.

That didn't mean his patients didn't think otherwise, or didn't bitch constantly to him.

Like right now. By some magic and dickery from God, Jacksepticeye and Antisepticeye somehow  _both_  walked into his office at the exact same time, both hero and villain covered in various bruises and cuts, undoubtedly from each other. 

Jack, who had grown so comfortable with the doctor that he took his mask off around him, immediately shoved the green material back on his face, his famous Septic Eye covering his right eye. Sam themself was actually nowhere to be found, but Henrik didn't need the lazer shooting flying eyeball to show up right now.

Anti growled lowly, hand twitching. "What are  _you_ doing here?" he demanded, voice glitching slightly.

Jack opened his mouth to snap something back, but the doctor stepped in before it could escalate any further. "Alright you two, you know the rules. No fighting, no trying to cause any bodily harm to anyone. If you do, I  _will_ throw you out and tell you to find a new doctor to help you with your bullshit. And I don't think Dr. Iplier would be very happy with you going all the way to Iplieropolis from Jacktion just to get your cuts patched up," Henrik said, going in between the two. Neither looked very happy about it, but they complied. Henrik nodded shortly, gathering the necessary supplies he would need.

Once the doctor came back, he saw Jack sitting on the tall metal table, Anti in the corner glitching every few seconds. The two opposites were glaring at each other, neither one noticing Henrik enter. The doctor coughed into his hand, getting the attention of both.

"Now that you two have stopped whatever cat fight you're trying to win, I can get to work. Jack, you're going to have to take off your mask and shirt in order to get to your injuries," the doctor raised an eyebrow, watching the blue eyed male turn red at his request. Jack's gaze shifted over to Anti, seeing the glitch nonexistent response. 

"You can't possibly expect me to do that in front of  _him!"_ Jack exclaimed, crossing his arms like a five year old. Henrik rolled his eyes.

"You two have the sames bodies and face. Stop acting like a child and take off your damn shirt and mask," the doctor retorted, crossing his own arms. The hero mumbled something inherently under his breath before peeling off the sweat and blood soaked shirt of his costume. With a few seconds of hesitation he took the mask off as well, which was almost a carbon copy of Anti's. Jack refused to look at the villain after this, face still red in embarrassment.

"Common, doc," Jack mumbled. "Just get it over with."

Henrik went to work, taping together wounds and wrapping them, applying soothing ointment to bruises and smaller injuries. He was happy to find that he didn't need to stitch Jack up, and was satisfied with his work after a few minutes. 

However, he was not happy with Jack's cloths. They were torn to shreds and very bloody, which surprised the doctor considering that the hero's injuries weren't all that bad. A lot of it must have been Anti's, he thought.

Whose blood it was aside, Henrik refused to send the hero home wearing  _this._ It was unsanitary to say the least, and the last thing Jacktion needed was Jacksepticeye half dead while dealing with criminals due to some easily avoided infection. He needed new cloths.

The doctor walked over to his cabinet where he kept cloths for situations like this. This wasn't the first time he's lended clothing to his patients, and it probably won't be the last. He grabbed a simple white t-shirt and jeans he knew would fit Jack, it being the size Henrik weared and Jack being a similar size to him. 

"Here," he handed the shirt and jeans to the hero. "There's no way I'm letting you go home like that. You're  _not_ nearly dying of a stupid  infection like you did a few years ago if I have anything to say about it." From the corner of the doctors eye he saw Anti tilt his head much like a dog would at the others statement. He ignored the glitch for the moment, making sure Jack didn't hurt himself or rip any of the bandages while he dressed. Besides him hastily ripping off his pants in order to put the new jeans on, nothing went wrong. He still refused to look in the villains direction, a faint pink that never left his ears present. 

Jack then got off the table, making his way to the door, and Henrik let him, knowing that there wasn't really anything else he could do. He knew that Jack had a job outside of being a hero, knew he had a private life, but the doctor never prodded. It wasn't any of his business. But before the hero went out the door, he stopped right beside the doctor. Henrik raised his eyebrows in question, but didn't say anything.

"Are you sure you'll be okay with... with that  _thing?_ He could kill you with a breath," Jack whispered desperately, not looking Henrik in the eye.

The doctor sighed. Of course the hero would be worried about him. He had a giant heart like that. 

"I've dealt with Antisepticeye many of times before, Jack. I can take care of myself. You should know that better than anyone," Henrik replied. Jack tensed at that, but didn't say anything back. With that, the hero walked right out of the clinic, disappearing to wherever he disappeared to whenever he was done being a hero.

The doctor turned to Anti, seeing the glitch stilled curled up on himself. The virus glared at him with sickly green eyes, pale skin fading in and out of existence. He reminded Henrik of a feral cat, ready to attack at any moment, but also ready to run away. 

"Are you going to let me patch you up, or are you going to just sit there? I could really do either, to be honest."

Anti glared harder, slowly, and rather shakily, getting up. His legs trembled slightly as he walked over to the table, weakly getting up onto the surface. Henrik didn't say anything, understanding that the glitch must have been a lot more hurt than he realized. Anti didn't need a reminder of that, mostly due to his pride and the fact that it would mean Jack must have beaten him  _hard._

"Take off your shirt," the doctor commanded. Unlike Jack, he complied instantly, but at a gradual pace, clearly hurting. When Henrik tried to assist him, Anti hissed at him sharply, as if to say no. The doctor raised his hands in a mock surrender, as if to say fine, do it your way.

It took a good minute, but the virus finally got the shirt off, panting lightly from the strain. It was definitely worse than Henrik thought it would be. Purple and blue marks lined his pale skin, thin and long lines of blood crisscrossed his chest, the red liquid running down. 

Taking a cautious step forward, Henrik raised with hands with the supplies, asking a silent question to the villain. Anti exhaled, nodding. The doctor nodded back, going to work. He cleaned and wrapped the glitches cuts, applying the soothing geel everywhere he could. He didn't know if Anti could actually feel pain like a normal human, but Henrik didn't bother to ask. It didn't matter either way, it wasn't any of his business.

Thankfully, there was no broken bones, or else the doctor would have had to get the binder that he knew Anti hated (he did it once, and you might as well just have shot the guy with how much he hated it.) Like with Jack, he got a t-shirt (this one black, like his original one) and grey jeans, though they didn't have rips like Anti liked. Oh well, the glitch bitch would just have to deal with it. 

"There. Try not to kill yourself, got it? I'm not sure what Jack would do without you," Henrik told the virus, cleaning up the clinic as he did.

"Jack hates me. Why would you say something like that?"

Henrik raised his eyebrows at the pained voice, stopping his movements. "Jack can't hate anyone, and you know that," he faced the glitch, who was standing up, staring at his feet and moping like a kicked puppy. It was almost enough for Henrik to feel pity for him, but he pushed it down. "Just because he's you're 'hero' or whatever, doesn't mean he doesn't care. Jack cares a lot more than you think."

"Then why did he call me a  _thing?_ Why did he ask if you were really safe with me? You'd think if someone cared for another they wouldn't say things like that," Anti said bitterly. 

The German doctor hummed, fiddling with a piece of cloth in his hand. "True. I guess he cares about me too, and can you really blame him? You have hurt plenty of people in the past."

"But you're not scared of me," the glitch stated blankly.

"No, I am not."

"Why?"

The doctor blinked, not sure how to respond. He hasn't been scared of Anti since the first time he met him, bleeding out and nearly dead. He never wondered why some sort of fear didn't resonate within him, none just ever did. He couldn't explain it.

Henrik sighed. "I don't know, Anti. I just never have."

The glitch stared at him for a few more moment, as if he was truly seeing the German for the first time. Then he turned into a wall of pixels, fading into the walls and disappearing from the doctors sight. Tenison that Henrik didn't realize he had drained from him, and he finally came to terms with how tired he was. He guessed having two beings who wanted to kill each other (or fuck, who knows) took a lot out of him. Plus, it was 2 o'clock in the morning.

The doctor closed up shop, wondering where his life had started filling with heroes and villains.

 

 

_BANG BANG BANG!_

Henrik jerked awake with a gasp, thrashing around in blind search for the noise. He scrambled out of his bed, mindlessly grabbing the small pistol on his bedside table. It wasn't much, but he's used it before (he remembered very clearly the bullet he put in Wilford Warfstache, the pink bastard). Furiously blinking the sleep from his eyes, the German struggled to process what was going on around him.

_BANG BANG BANG!_

There it was again. It wasn't as close as he thought it was, the sound coming from downstairs, in his clinic. The doctor sighed, running a hand down his face and taking a glance at the clock. The blaring red numbers read,  _1: 12,_ and Henrik grumbled about being woken up so late. Or early? Who gave a damn?

Still gripping the pistol, Henrik walked down the stairs to his clinic, keeping his steps even and light as to not let the person (or thing) know he was there. Once he got to the bottom, he slowly unlocked and opened the heavy white door, looking into the clinic.

Nothing to be found.

_BANG BANG BANG!_

The banging was closer now, making the doctor flinch in surprise. The noise wasn't  _inside_ the clinic, meaning it was somewhere outside. But who, or what, would be able to make a sound that loud? His first thought was Mark, but that couldn't be right. The super strong hero was all the way in Iplieropolis, so he couldn't be here. So what was?

The German stepped further into the clinic, still seeing nothing out of place. He went to the wall of many windows on the other side of the room, opening the curtains with his fingers. 

There on the other side, stood a man in a bright red outfit. 

Henrik did a double take, rubbing harshly at his eyes to make sure he wasn't hallucinating from lack of sleep. But no, there was definitely a guy wearing a ridiculous red costume standing right outside his clinic. After a few seconds of staring in the dim light of the early morning, the doctor realized that blood was also present on this man's figure.

Which meant he was probably a hero.

Meaning he was searching for a doctor to help him.

The German racked his brain for anything in the news dealing with a hero that looked like this, but the only thing that came to mind was a bank robbery that happened a few weeks ago and the blurry image of a man wearing red. 

_BANG BANG BANG!_

The doctor saw this man pounding on the window this time. He hasn't noticed Henrik yet, oddly enough. He was looking desperate, a muffled noise of frustration leaving his lips. After a moment of debating, the German knocked on the window, instantly earning the man's attention. His face was mostly covered by a red hoodie and mask, what looked like light brown hair peeking out. The man's eyes widened, frozen in shock. Henrik waved at him, and he waved back stiffly.

"Do you want to come in?" Henrik asked, raising his voice slightly to overcome the muffling the glass did.

The man nodded slowly, pointing towards the door. Henrik nodded back, closing the blinds and going over to the door. He still wasn't too sure about this man, but as of right now, he didn't have a reason to be on guard around him. That didn't mean he wouldn't be, though. He put the gun in the band of his pajama pants, the cool metal making him shiver. The German unlocked the door, disarming the alarm system, and opened it slowly to make sure the red man was still there. He was, trembling in the cool night air. It was very clear now the he was covered in blood and desperately needed medical attention, so Henrik ushered him inside and told him to sit on the metal table while he got his supplies. The man nodded, limping over to the table and hulling himself up onto it, watching the doctor gather the things he would need.

It didn't take long since Henrik usually had his supplies out and ready to go 24/7, seeing that he could never know when a hero would show up all bloody on his doorstep, like this one right here. 

Once he got everything, Henrik walked back over to the red man, who was swinging his feet like a kid on the playground, and the doctor took the moment to appreciate just how odd the outfit was. It was basically just a onesie, covering almost every inch of skin accept for his face and part of his hair. He could see the mask more clearly now, seeing that it was a bright blue color. When the man looked up, Henrik noticed his light grey eyes, the mask making them pop even more. 

The doctor shook himself out of his thoughts, placing everything he thought he would needed on the table next to the man. 

"Alright," he told the man. "I need you to take off that mask and most of that onesie of yours."

The man's eyes widened, hands gripping the sides of the table. "W-what- you can't be serious!" 

Henrik cringed at the voice crack from the red man, well, maybe he wasn't a man. His voice was higher pitch and younger than he expected it to sound, meaning that he was either an older teenager or a young adult in college. 

Of course he was.

The German sighed, already done with tonight. "If you want to not bleed out and have that limp permanently, then yes, I suggest you do what I ask you," he snapped. The doctor felt his heart soften at the slight fear in the boy's eyes, and took a deep breath. "Look, I'm not going to reveal your identity to anyone, okay? I don't care about your personal life in the slightest. All I want to do is help you, since that _is_ what you came for. You don't have to tell me your name unless you want to, got it? All I ask is that you do what I say." 

The boy stared at him for a little bit longer, as if he was making sure Henrik was telling the truth. Who knew, maybe that was his superpower, being able to tell when people were lying to him. That would be pretty snazzy. 

"Alright, okay. Just promise me that you won't say anything," the man said breathlessly.

"I promise," the doctor said with as much conviction as he could. The red man seemed to relax at this, and he slowly peeled the blue mask from his face, revealing a nose cheeks full of freckles with the last traces of boyhood. He then put down his hood, making more fluffy hair poof out into a cotton ball of a mess, falling over his grey eyes. 

The German motioned for him to continue, and the boy sighed, unzipping his front and shrugging off the top part of the suit. Henrik nodded, seeing the source of all the blood: a long, not very deep scar, blood pouring from it slowly. The red man gave a sheepish smile.

Henrik got to work, cleaning the scar and putting pressure on it to make it stop bleeding. He was grateful to find the this particular cut wouldn't need stitching, especially since it would have been done by him half asleep on a new patient. The man only flinched when he applied the antiseptic, but kept it to himself. Once the doctor had tightly wrapped the scar in a thick, white bandage, he went to his drawer to find something that might fit this boy. He was smaller than Henrik, but was more muscular and full than the stick like doctor. He decided sweatpants had the best chance for success here, and grabbed an old pair he found in the back of the drawer, along with a long sleeved red shirt. He handed the articles to the boy, but he just looked at them confused.

"What are these for?" he questioned as he took the clothes.

"I'm not letting you go wherever you go in  _that._ It's covered in blood and sweat and I do  _not_ need you to die on me from some stupid bacterial infection, got it?" the German asked, turning around to face the other direction. "Don't worry, I'm not looking."

The sounds of shuffling, a zipper and light grunts came from behind the doctor. After a few minutes, the red man told him, "I'm done."

Henrik turned back around to see that the clothes he choose had fit quite nicely, besides the fact that the sweatpant legs were a few inches too long, but there were worse fates. 

"Well, I guess you'll be off. It was nice to meet you, lock up when you leave," Henrik said as he began walking back to his house upstairs. He was still tired as Hell, and he had work tomorrow.

"Wait!" the boy called out before he could go anywhere. The German raised an eyebrow in question at him.

"I- a- well-," he rubbed the back of his neck. "What's your name? I never got one... If you want too, of course!" he added quickly.

"Didn't they tell you, whoever told you where I was?"

"They didn't uh- say your  _name,_ just said you were a doctor that helped heroes..." the boy trailed off.

"Call me Henrik. Dr. Sneeplestein if you're feeling formal for whatever reason," Henrik replied tiredly. "Now it there anything else? I'd really like to get some sleep."

The boy twiddled his thumbs, as if debating something. "Uh- yes actually. You can, uh, call me Grayson," the boy-  _Grayson-_ flushed pink as he said it. Henrik hummed, thinking the name suited him.

"Well, if you ever need help Grayson, just find me, okay?" he asked gently, feeling a surge of affection for this boy. The doctor didn't know where it came from, but it swelled like a damn tide and wasn't going away.

Grayson smiled. "Thanks, doc," he said, walking out of the clinic and shutting the door behind him with a  _click._ The German smiled as well, walking back to his house upstairs, taking the now warm gun out of his pants and collapsing into bed.  

 

 

_"Robert, some 'super serum' won't make him come back. What happened was a tragedy, but this won't help in the long run. You have to **let it go.** "_

_The man Henrik was talking to, Dr. Robert Zomb, just growled and shoved the few glass bottles on his desk to the floor with a loud crash. Light green and purple liquid stained the tile, the thin substance spreading quickly. Henrik sighed and took in his friends appearance and how it's changed over the past few months. His once bright blond hair was turning an almost greyish color from the amount of stress and lack of care he had given it, skin pale and thin from little food or water. His great purplish eyes were now dull and lifeless, dark, prominent circles underneath them. It hurt the doctor to see his friend this way, to know that the one person who could have helped him was gone forever._

_"But I could stop other from dying like he did! Just imagine the things I could do, Henrik! I'd be a hero," Robert took a swig of whiskey that was on his desk, wiping his mouth from the excess that dripped off. Henrik's heart clenched at the sight. The scientist hasn't drinked in years, not since... **he** came into Robert's life. The simple golden ring caught the German's eye, tears threatening to fall from his eyes._

_"You can't keep doing this, Rob. It'll kill you. You know he wouldn't have wanted you to lock yourself up like this. He would've wanted you to live your life, to **help** people like you always wanted to," he tried to reason with Robert, but the other was having none of it._

_"You don't know what he would have wanted for me! And besides, I **am** helping people," he guestered to the many papers that covered his desk. "I'm so close, Henrik. I could stop a car with a touch, jump for miles. Imagine  **that,** someone able to take on any villain with a finger. No one would ever have to die like he did ever again," Robert trailed off, eyes going glassy. He chugged another serving of whiskey, emptying the bottle and letting it fall to the desk with a loud, THUD. _

_Henrik shook his head. "No, Robert. You have to let it go. That's the only way you can move on from this."_

_The scientist growled again. "If you refuse to help me, get out! I don't need to hear your pity," he snapped, throwing the empty bottle in the doctors direction. Henrik didn't move, watching as it shattered on the floor in front of him. He could faintly see his reflection in the glass, highlighting his tiredness and the helplessness that he felt._

_"I'm sorry," the German whispered, stepping back and looking down. "I can't watch you destroy yourself." He made to walk out the door, but the sound of moaning and grinding teeth caught his attention. When he turned around, in place of where Robert Zomb was not 30 seconds ago was some sort of monster, skin decayed and purple and grey. It's muscles bulges, teeth snapping as drool ran down it's chin. Henrik stood frozen as it ran towards him, reaching out its arms to grab him and opening its jaw wide-_

Henrik sat up, gasping harshly and covered in sweat. It took a few moments, but he finally realized he was in his bed, safe and sound, and Robert Zomb had not actually that monster trying to eat his brains out. It wasn't the first time he's had that exact nightmare, and he doubts it'll be the last.

The doctor untangled himself from the twisted sheets of his bed, his heart calming as he placed his feet on the floor. But the nightmare remained clear in his mind, every sound and moment was ringing in his ears and inner eye. He placed his head in his hands, rubbing a his tired and wet eyes. He must have cried while sleeping at some point, but he couldn't find it within himself to care right now. 

Henrik slowly lifted his head, looking up at his dresser. One of the many things on it was a picture, one that look as if it had been knocked over. The German pushed himself up, shuffling over to the dresser, right in front of the knocked down picture. With shaking fingers, he grabbed the metal frame and lifted it up, revealing the picture underneath. It was taken many years ago, but it was still clear as day.

The picture of Henrik Sneeplestein and Robert Zomb.

Robert looked more like himself in this picture, bright blond hair, glowing skin, shining eyes and a wide smile. There was no ring on his finger. No ring  _yet._

They looked so happy, so young. Many days Henrik wished he could back to those moments, when Robert was happy and carefree, his only mission to help everyone he could. Before his obsession became to make some sort of super serum in order to take revenge. 

Henrik sighed, placing the picture facing down again. It was better that way. The German could never bring himself to get rid of the picture, yet he couldn't look at it for long without feeling that Robert Zomb had died, even though that was far from the truth.

A loud ringing broke his attention away from his thoughts. The doctor blinked, processing that it was his cellphone right next to him on the dresser. After staring at it for a few moments, he snapped himself out of the past and forced himself into the present. He picked up the phone, seeing the caller ID was Jack. Confused on why the hero would call him right now, given that he wasn't out right now, Henrik answered the call with a click.

"What is it?" he asked tiredly, crossing his other arm.

On the other side of the call, heavy breathing could be heard.  _"Doc!"_ Jack yelled out, sounding panicked.  _"It's Marvin! You have to help!"_

 

 

It was far from the first time Marvin had gotten himself captured.

In fact, he seemed to get kidnapped by some gang or villain every other week, causing other heroes to have to save him. He could probably get himself out pretty easily, but that never is the case when it came to the magician. 

By the time Henrik had gotten to the address Jack sent him, the action was already over. Various bodies were in many states of hurt and pain, the sounds of moaning filling the small alleyway. The police weren't there yet, but they would be soon, more than likely because a passing civilian on their way to work. 

The doctor quickly got out of his car with some medical supplies, seeing Jack, the red man, Grayson, and some man with a monocle. Henrik didn't know who the last person was, but he couldn't care less right now. In Grayson's arms laid a thin, pale body, face covered by a colorful cat mask and draped with a purple cape. A bullet wound gaped in his stomach.

Henrik cursed, realizing that he wouldn't be able to bring the magician back to his clinic. In the state he was in right now, it would kill him.

The monocle man was the first person to notice him there. He snapped loudly, pointing at the German as he came closer. Jack looked relieved to see him, Grayson panicked and eyes wide. Marvin just smiled happily, mind likely hazy from the pain and blood loss. 

"Put him down!" Henrik commanded, ripping open his bag and pulling out a large towel. It might have seemed like a weird item to bring with you, but with these heroes, you never knew what you might need. Grayson laid the magician down gently to not disturb the wound, but Marvin flinched anyway, groaning with pain.The doctor instantly untied the cape, throwing it to the side and up opening Marvin's shirt with a pair of scissors. The hole was sluggishly pumping blood out, and the German spread out the towel, pressing it as hard as he could on the wound. The magician protested, arching his back and trying to move away. That wouldn't do.

"You two!" he snapped, looking up at Jack and Grayson. "Hold him down!"

They both looked reluctant to do so, but got to their knees and held the smaller man down. Marvin stilled whine and cried, but now he was a lot stiller than before. Good. 

Henrik took off the towel, inspecting the bullet hole. Thankfully it went all the way through, do there would be no bullet to fish out. Those were always pains in the ass. Unfortunately, he would have to stitch it up. There was no way around it, the wound was just too big. 

The doctor reached for his bag, only for it to be just out of reach. "Damn it," he muttered, frustrated with himself. The monocle man, who had remained silent this whole time, wordlessly shoved it toward him. Henrik said a brief thanks, fishing out the needle and medical thread to start the stitches and threading them together.

"Okay Marvin," he tried to sooth with his voice. "I'm going to help you, alright? I need you to try and stay as still as possible though, alright?"

Marvin gave a dizzying nod of his head, signalling that he wasn't completely gone from reality. That was good, it meant there was less probability of a concussion. 

Henrik got to work, cleaning out the wound with antiseptic before beginning the sewing process. Marvin made a pained sound with each action, and the doctor did his best to ignore him. It was hard, the sounds tugging on his heartstrings. Jack and Grayson were obviously affected as well, the red suited boy squeezing his eyes shut and mumbling to himself, while Jack took deep breaths. In the background, Henrik could see the monocle man pacing back and forth. He still didn't know his deal, but he must be trustworthy if both of these heroes trust him.

The German brushed his hair out of his eyes, finishing the final stitches. The blood had stopped coming out of the wound completely now, so that was a good sign. The doctor finished everything by wrapping Marvin securely in bandages, making sure no part of the wound was left uncovered.

All three of the men holding down the magician fell back, relieved that their friend was safe and not dying anymore. Henrik took the moment to look around, looking at all of the bodies littering the alleyway, and turned back to the four in front of him.

"I'm not even going to ask what happened. Right now, what I need is some coffee and some God damn Advil." 

 

 

"Who the Hell are you supposed to be?" were the first words out of Henrik's mouth.

The man in front of him, who was wearing a baseball cap and currently had the villain Antisepticeye in a heap in his arms, turned pink at the question. For what reason, the doctor didn't understand, but that wasn't the point. The point was that this random person, who was definitely a civilian, had Jacktion's most notorious villain in his arms and knew who he was. Kinda, at least.

"This dude told me this was the best way to not die, so... I thought this would be the best way to go?" the man questioned to himself, voice cracking at the end. Henrik sighed, waving the man in hurriedly. Anti was completely passed out, covered in blood and dirt, barely breathing from the looks of it. The German guestered for the man to put the glitch on the table, and he did just that. As Henrik ran around the clinic, getting the things he needed, a question flew from his mouth without permission.

"How in the bloody Hell did you manage to find  _Antisepticeye_ of all people?" Henrik demanded, dumping the things he would need on the table.

The man took off his baseball cap and placed it on the counter next to him, running his fingers through is hair shakily. "I- I don't know dude- it was just one moment, I'm walking through town, minding my own business, and this dude just falls from the sky right in front of me! Man, it scared the shit out of me, I-" he cut himself off, now just staring at Anti like he couldn't believe that whatever was happening was real. Henrik couldn't really blame him. 

"Okay, okay. I need you to hold this," he handed the man a wad of bandages, ripping open Anti's shirt and observing the deep cuts and wounds all over his chest.

This would take a lot of stitches.

Henrik sighed again. "Anti, you will be the death of me," he mumbled under his breath, preparing himself for the long work ahead.

"You mean you've done this before?" the man asked, eyes wide. 

Henrik just looked at him with a  _duh_ look on his face. "I've done this more times than I could count," the doctor retorted, beginning the cleaning and stitching process. The man didn't say anything back, but gave the bandages to Henrik when he asked for them and took them back afterwards.

It took forever. The German had to stitch up 6 cuts, went through not one, but  _three_ bandage wraps, and nearly had the man pass out on him in the process. But it was finally done.

The doctor put the finishing touches on the bandages, sitting back and taking a deep breath. Anti was breathing more stably now, but he was still out cold. He turned to the man, who was paler than he was before.

"I'll ask again, who the Hell are you?"

The man gulped, tearing his bright blue eyes away from the glitch on the table. "I'm Chase."

The doctor held out his hand. "Henrik," he stated, shaking Chase's hand firmly. The man's hand was sweaty, but he pretend not to notice. "A pleasure meeting you."

"So, you do this regularly?" Chase asked, stepping further away from Anti to lean on the counter. 

Henrik laughed bitterly. "Yeah, you could say that. Welcome to my life, Chase," he said before walking over to his cabinet to grab a big jug of whiskey, waving it in the other direction. 

"Now, do you need a drink? I could use a drink after all this bullshit."                                         

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a comment.
> 
> ~Magical_Devil_Alex


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